Slamming!
by aliencatt
Summary: As Miguel Alvarez is slammed face first into a wall, he knows what will happen next...PWP...non/con ...read at your own risk


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm just a fan.

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><p><strong>OZ<strong>

**Alvarez/?**

**Warnings**…non con/rape…read at your own risk

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><p><strong>AN**...This is another of my first few stories that I had forgotten and have recently found whilst going through some disks. I have left it as was, apart from some slight grammer improvements. (_Laughing)_ When I first started to write I did not know what a comma was for! So please enjoy and please be kind. Cheers! (written 2001ish)

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><p>==000==<p>

Slamming forwards into the wall, Alvarez could guess what would come next and sure enough the large body pressed up against his back pinning him. From experience he knew it to be futile but he had to try anyway, try to defend himself. He could not give in meekly without a fight never mind that the body was bigger than his, stronger than his.

Putting all his strength into his arms, he braced against the brickwork and pushed backwards as hard as he could. All the action brought him was nothing more than a grunt of renewed effort from behind as he was forced back and a hand covering the side of his face holding it to the cold rough surface.

Fingers clutching at the wall, he stared frantically from the corner of his eye at the face so close to his own, breathing rapidly as his feet were kicked apart and the man's crotch began to rhythmically press into his ass. Even through the thickness of his jeans and the man's trousers he could feel the eagerness for him. For his body at any rate.

It had not been wholly unexpected, not a total surprise as the hands had grabbed him, one over his mouth, the other around his chest pinning his arms, he had known who it was. As he was abducted and dragged into the stationary closet, he had not needed the words poured into his ear that his 'lover' was back, he knew. It had been the smell.

Not that it was an unpleasant aroma, just that it was distinctive. Everybody has one, a unique essence. This was a mixture of the soap and deodorant he used all underlain by that particular odour that was personal to him. When you have been that close to, been 'intimate' with someone, you are always aware of their presence asked for or not.

Struggling, he had been dragged into the room, almost being picked up as he had tried to make himself as heavy and cumbersome as possible. It occurred to him that it would probably excite his attacker more but he could not just 'lay back and take it'. He realised he had little to no chance of escape and even less of rescue. He had been taken before and now he was to be taken again but his pride made it impossible for him not to fight or at least try. He would, could not, be compliant, not that first time and not this.

The body behind him shifted slightly giving him a little room but afforded no freedom, still he tried once more to rear back from the wall. He achieved nothing, the body behind being tensed, prepared and immovable. The index finger of the hand holding his face to the wall forced its way into his mouth as the other hand shot down the front of his jeans, pulling the waistband tight across his back as the palm covered his prick. He bit down on the finger but not hard enough to break the skin. He had to put up the resistance for his own sanity but could not dare to truly anger the man. As it was he would be left with bruises, grazes and a sore arse but he would be left relatively unharmed at the end of this.

That first time that this had happened he had been assured that he would survive, that he would not be physically hurt, much. After all, the man had stated, he did not want him in the Hospital ward, did not want him damaged and unusable. He wanted him available. He would be back for more. That did not mean however that he could rely on it. Alvarez knew that this man was extremely capable of violence and was pretty certain that he enjoyed it.

There was a chuckle at his defiance and also at his cock which had responded to the hand in contact with it which was as swiftly removed as it had arrived. The digit was also removed from his mouth and he was swung around, the body immediately pinning him tight once more. He turned his face away as it was probed with fingers prodding at his skin, playing with his mouth, his lips being stretched, pushed this way and that.

His hands came up to push at the man's hips to try to force him off. He succeeded as his assailant took a step backwards for balance and Alvarez moved, hitting out, pushing him off once more then slipping to the side and out of reach but he was not fast enough. Caught around the waist, he was hoisted up and practically flung back against the wall. His wrists were caught after some effort and held out to the sides as the much larger frame resumed the pinning of him, the groin pushed against his own squashing him with renewed vigour as the mouth smiled at him and the eyes glinted.

The man seemed highly amused at the attempted escape and began to sniff at him, his hair, his neck and face, the tip of his tongue darting about to taste as Miguel moved his head around uselessly trying to avoid the contact, his eyes screwed tightly closed, face twisted.

His wrists were released, there was no need to hold on, the man knew he had him, one hand grabbing at the short hair, the other sliding across his back to clutch at his waist tightly. The mouth covered his own as his hair was savagely pulled forcing his head to tilt into the contact. His own hands came up to grab at the black shirt futilely tugging at the man's back as he was forcefully kissed.

The tongue invading his mouth felt huge and as his hair was released, the hand sliding to his shoulders, he was pulled forwards and swung off balance to be bent over backwards within the powerful arms. Now he clutched at the broad back holding on as he feared he would be thrown to the floor. The kiss continuing, his lips were being trapped painfully against his teeth, so he slowly and hesitantly began to respond, moving his own mouth against his captor's. It was after all what was expected, he had already learnt that and also it was the only way that he had found to prevent further damage to the sensitive skin of his lips. The intense pressure let up at the response.

He was placed back on his feet and heard his t-shirt rip somewhere as it was yanked up and over his head before he could regain his breath or balance. The hands were immediately back on him, all over his exposed flesh, pulling, kneading, pinching at him. Stepping back, still trying to fend off the contact, he was grabbed by the nape of the neck and the front of his jeans waistband then pulled to an open space in the room and tackled to the floor, hitting the ground with a jarring shock he grunted at.

On his back, the floor cold against his skin, with arms stretched out over his head, the man's body lay heavily full out on top of him and he was treated to an almost passionate kiss. The movement of the figure above him, pressing onto him, began calling to his own. This had happened before, even that first time when through the fear of the unknown his body had reacted to the attentions no matter how un-loving, rough and uncaring of him they had been. That first time his reactions had unnerved him to say the least especially after, as he had been left there, he had been unwilling to admit that he had not hated the experience, but he had done much to ensure it would not happen again.

His precautions had proved ineffective as he had been caught once more, then again and again over the next couple of weeks. That had been three months ago. He had decided that with it seemingly inevitable he may as well enjoy it as far as he could. That was why as his forearms were let loose, his hands came up to hold onto the shoulders above him as the man's hands roamed down his sides.

Part of it was self preservation, he still had to be extremely cautious. He could not trust the man's seeming fascination with him would last which, in private moments when he was honest with himself, he would regret. Also he had a foreboding that he would not exactly be allowed to go merrily on his way. So he did put up a fight because he knew it excited his 'admirer' keeping him interested but also he was aware that he should not be enjoying this attention but he did. So he got hit occasionally but in the midst of the mixed up feelings these encounters provoked he guessed he sort of deserved it.

Alvarez forced his legs apart then pulled his knees up as his groin moved in response to the rhythm set above him but the weight disappeared as his 'partner' moved back to knell between his bent legs. Gazing up into the grinning face, seeing the unabashed lust, he pushed himself to sitting only to receive a hard shove in the centre of his chest and succumbed to the implicit instruction to lay still then his jeans, barely unfastened were tugged down over hips and legs.

The black clad figure knelt on the fabric trapping his ankles and he watched with a mixture of fascination and apprehension as the sleeveless shirt was slowly unbuttoned and removed.

From his position, the assailant took great delight in the expression on Alvarez' face, the slow swallow, the licked lips as he undid the button and zip on his pants as if unveiling some great work of art. The grin changing to sarcastic, he grabbed hold of the supposedly resistant Latino and dragged his hips closer so his legs were doubled hopefully uncomfortably and he did not prevent him this time from rising up on taught arms as he took his time studying the face before him.

Alvarez was not his usual type by any means and he wondered at it. Usually he only took his victims, he supposed he should term them, once or twice, often in company and had always used what was handy, if anything at all, but after the almost invitation, he had read the look as one even if it had not been the intention, he had decided that this one might just prove to be different, that he might want him more than once. If nothing else the body certainly had appeal and the way it moved he had thought it might just be worth the effort.

He was glad that he had not damaged him much that first time as he had gone back for more the next day, not withstanding that it had actually taken him near a week to find the opportunity to get him alone again. He had never had a 'prag' of his own, before often sharing with his friends, but something about that glance towards him had made him think, 'hey, fuck it, give it a go'. He could always dispose of him if he chose.

The other difference was he had to keep this to himself. He was not only disinclined to share but being interested in the 'Spic' would not be looked on kindly by his confederates. On his return visit the anger he had felt at the frustration with the delay had led him to be harsher than he had intended but the resultant fight had been highly enjoyable. It made a refreshing change, a challenge as Alvarez had dared to try and fight him off a second time, then a third but it had soon become apparent that underneath the resistance the man had actually wanted to be fucked by him. He pulled at and egged him on as much as fighting him off.

It turned him on in a way he liked because it was also obvious that it did not sit well with Alvarez either. In fact it seemed to be a torment and the contradiction in his behaviour made it all the more exciting. That must be why he kept coming back for more, coming back to take him. Never giving any warning, it was always opportunistic and that too was a game because the little bastard was not making it easy for him. He had not grassed him up though or tried to shank him. Not after the first time at any rate. Thinking about that he drew back and slapped him across the face but not too hard.

Chuckling, he then laughed out loud at the look of indignation on Alvarez' face as it swung back to glare at him. Still smirking, he knocked the supporting arms away, surging down on him, forcing that mouth open with his own. The hands were immediately on him pulling at his shoulders, his back, his ass and raising up on straightened arms, he lined himself up against the asshole and pushed in, eyes locked on the darker face seeing his eyes open wide while gasping out at the incursion.

Barely giving time for Alvarez' body to relax and accept him, he forced himself in up to the hilt, feeling fingers digging painfully in to his upper arms. He caught at the hair again capturing the mouth, mashing against it and began to move inside the hot tightness with the other's now equally hard prick pushing up into his belly. It still felt like a fight as he was met with near equal vigour, tongue pressing against his own, searching inside his mouth just like his own.

The hands now clutching his shoulders threatened to bruise if he did not stop him soon. He reared up once more pushing the lithe body back to the hard floor as it made to rise with him and fixing eyes on eyes set a slow pace, his prick almost leaving the sheath then plunging back deep.

Alvarez wanted to hold onto him, to find purchase as with the cock aggressive inside of him, the movement pushing his whole body along the floor, his back felt grazed by the rough concrete. He longed to wrap his legs up high around the large body to ease the pressure on his knees and inside him but the jeans trapping his ankles, held down by thick thighs, forbade him.

Gasping with the forceful rhythm stretching him, seemingly filling his whole being, he raised his hips holding onto the man's back, pulling himself up once more. He buried his face in the neck, his mouth open on the skin of a shoulder and with the next mammoth push into him, he bit down on the flesh. It worked. Too well. Not only did the pressure lesson it disappeared as the shaft was withdrawn causing him to shudder at the harsh friction, holding back a grunt of pain.

He was knocked once more to the ground as the man knelt back. He looked up questioningly and witnessed a set angry face towering over him. Both men breathing hard, there was a pause then he was dealt a stinging blow across his face. He froze, a look of astonishment on his reddening face mixed with no small amount of trepidation. He had known to be careful but had gotten caught up in the sensations in the moment, in the passion of the thing, but now he truly feared.

It was swift. The initial pain from the blow had not yet reseeded before he was forced over and found himself staring at the concrete with hands grabbing, spreading his butt now high in the air. He was unable to stifle the pained explosion of breath as he was 'impaled' once more. He forced himself up onto all fours but the hand hard between his shoulder blades was pushing him down and there was no denying the implicit command so, finally giving up all resistance, he settled his forehead onto the back of his hands preventing his face from scraping the floor as he was repeatedly bucked forwards.

The larger man had not truly been angry at the bite to his skin, it would be covered as soon as he dressed but he had seized on the instant to remind the 'Bitch' that this was not a mutual arrangement. He was not here to give Alvarez pleasure but to take pleasure in him. The command he had on his own body enabling him with determination to interrupt the rutting, it could hardly be called anything else, was all part of it. He held him mercilessly, hands gripping him by his sides, staring at the writing between them and quickened his pace pulling the butt back to meet him.

Alvarez' hands were scrabbling at the floor now with gasps and grunts escaping his open mouth. The sight egged him on as did the sound of the Latino's prick smacking against his thigh and belly in time to his movements. He smiled wickedly and slowing, lengthened his strokes, making each one as hard as he could, each one a fucking in its own right while bathing in the pleading almost begging noises he was causing.

Leaning over along the straining back, he placed one hand on his neck and with his other grasped hold of Miguel's prick. He wanted this thing, this, 'affair? this whatever, to continue for the foreseeable future at least so began to pump Alvarez's cock as a means to an end rather than deriving any pleasure from it. He wanted to keep him compliant in his part of the game. He must be getting his rocks off as jerking from the sudden extra contact it was not long before, catching and holding his breath, he shot as he was rocked forwards then bit at his own fist as the thrusting continued making him shed all.

The man on him, in him was not long in following as Miguel's body went rigid then lax and pliant under his hands now back on his sides and he too emptied deep inside, collapsing forwards, his weight taking them both to a tangle on the ground. He rested there unconcerned that the other was twisted uncomfortably beneath him.

Damn, but the man was heavy, breathing loudly into his ear. Alvarez was forced to take shallow breaths, not the deep lung fillers that he needed and the man showed no intention of moving, of leaving him. He began very slowly to stretch out hoping it would be a hint that would work. He needed to get his equilibrium back. He was knackered and certain that he would ache badly after this and was concerned he would cramp up in his trapped and twisted limbs but he had angered him badly once already and thought it highly unwise to risk telling him to get off of him. His cautious movement worked and he let out a sound comprised of relief, pleasure and no small pain as the flaccid cock finally slid from his raw ass. It may not be complete but it sure knew how to work.

The weight gone, it took a couple of attempts for him to turn over and looking up, he saw the man grinning down at him while pulling closed and fastening his flies. As he bent to retrieve his black sleeveless shirt, Alvarez untangled his feet and clumsily tried to stand. Struggling to do so, he found a hand held out before his face. Looking up, he accepted the invitation and grasping the offered forearm was helped to his feet to stand unsteadily pulling up his jeans. He winced at the soreness his actions caused and stopping, put fingers to his arse. He was worried that he was bleeding this time but no, it was just a mixture of scant lubricant and spunk that was leaking down his thigh.

Wiping his hand on his hip, he would be heading straight for the showers now anyway, he did himself up and bent to pick up his t-shirt. It was ripped down the side seem and neck. He faced the man finally speaking, "Damn it, Robson! I told you before, watch my fucking clothes. I'm running out of 'em!" waving the grey fabric at him.

"Oh stop bitchin'," laughing at the expression his phrasing provoked and leaning close, finishing buttoning his shirt and added, "You love every second of it!"

Alvarez fixed him with squinted dark accusing eyes then relented. He cocked his head, his grin as mischievous as Robson's. They both knew it was true. Yes, he agreed with himself, he had chosen his playmate well. The risk, the excitement, and yes, the danger was all there. He had been sure of that from the moment he had looked at him in that certain, deliberate way.

-= end =-


End file.
